Politeness
by Time Lord of many names
Summary: "Politeness, my dear doctor, is a virtue of a clever man," said Garak once at their usual lunch, after having a quick word with a bolian ensign passing by. "It may get you many things you couldn't get the other way."


"Politeness, my dear doctor, is a virtue of a clever man," said Garak once at their usual lunch, after having a quick word with a bolian ensign passing by. "It may get you many things you couldn't get the other way."

Julian grinned, while digging into his food.

"Sure, that's why they use only unmatched politeness during questioning in the Obsidian Order, don't they?"

Garak gave him an indulgent smile and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

"Ah, doctor, trying to spot me as a spy again? I see you're being much better informed than myself in this matter."

Julian leaned back and shook his head impatiently.

"Come on, Garak! It is commonly known that cardassians do the most brutal interrogations in this quadrant and show perfectly severe discipline among themselves," he pointed his fork at him, gazing intently. "How can these things possibly coexist in such a perfect balance in your head?"

"I beg your pardon?"

 _Pretence._ Julian already got used to it, so he just shrugged, turning again to his lunch.

"Well, you're cardassian."

"But, my dear doctor, it looks like you're messing up interrogations with a plain, simple questioning," Garak smiled blandly.

"By a plain, simple tailor?" Julian seemed to be full of scepticism.

"Exactly," he beamed.

The doctor snorted. Garak took a sip of his rokassa juice and looked at him consideringly.

"Are you underestimating the power of politeness?"

"Not at all. It's just a little bit odd to hear you praising politeness as if it could get you anywhere, while your own people _exiled you,"_ he lifted his eyes from the plate and raised his eyebrows, "and don't seem eager to share such a conviction, preferring force over politeness."

Garak laughed shortly, looking quite unflappable. "The statement that politeness can get you things one couldn't get otherwise doesn't mean that it can get anything you want, good doctor," he smiled. "I thought is was quite easy to grasp."

"It is," Julian nodded, "I'm just perplexed by you considering it a tool rather than a sign of a good nature or a level of culture," he took a sip of his tarkalean tea.

"Maybe because I'm not so good-natured as you are, doctor?" Garak smiled again.

There was a smirk and a pleased glance.

"However, I dare say you're definitely one of the most educated and well-bred persons at this station."

"Oh, that's flattering," the cardassian seemed genuinely delighted. "But what makes you think that I cannot appreciate politeness both ways?" he raised his eyeridge expressively. "I might be implying getting your pleasant company as well."

Julian laughed.

"You were quite insisting and intriguing, so it wasn't your politeness getting me along, I presume," his eyes still rident. "But, sure, I'm very grateful that you didn't try to tie me to a chair."

"Should I?" he tilted his head.

"Er... no," Julian got embarrassed.

"Doctor Bashir," Garak started with a faint smile and barely visible concern in his eyes, "are you trying to tell me that my company bothers you?"

Julian felt a hint of remorse.

"No, no, of course not. It was merely a joke."

"Well then," the tailor brightened, "going back to the subject that seems to entertain you," he took another sip of his rokassa juice before continuing. "I may be quite convincing when it takes to fashion, business or a good debate over the literature, but I hardly imagine myself using just politeness if I was intending to conduct an interrogation," his eyes flickered with amusement. "On you, perhaps."

"I'm disposed to insist," Julian smiled in his turn, "that you couldn't tear out of me things I wouldn't tell you just because of your politeness."

"Oh, now you're underestimating cardassian inquiry techniques," Garak blatantly enjoyed the conversation.

Julian drew up the dessert, giving him a speaking gaze.

"So, you admit that you're perfectly aware of what they are."

"But haven't you been telling about several minutes ago that it is something commonly known?" he feigned a genuine amazement.

"Good try," the doctor shook his head. "But still I'm not convinced," he lifted his eyes and stared at Garak. "Why to use politeness as a tool and keep it in the same pocket with cruelty?"

"Why to use force when it can be done with just politeness and simple observing?" he stared back.

"Maybe because cardassians are brute?" that was an evident tease.

"Who told you such thing?" Garak laughed airily and then added. "After all, I have to admit that not all of my people may be called quite clever."

"But you are," Julian smiled.

"I do hope I am," he returned the smile.

For a moment or two they were silent, going on with the rest of their lunches. The doctor's break was almost over. Then Garak leaned back and scanned him one more time with an expression of some hidden amusement.

"Talking about politeness. You were implying something like being willing to please if you're properly asked," his smile became almost mischievous. "But what if you were asked to do something you simply don't want to do?"

Julian seemed considering the answer while taking care of his apple-pie.

"I cannot imagine a thing that isn't harmful or breaking the law or somewhat like that that I would refuse to do if my friend is asking me with all the proper politeness," he smiled playfully, amused with himself.

Garak was staring at him for a while in silence.

"Wouldn't you be so kind as to suck my dick, please, Julian?"

Julian blinked. It felt like he were stunned by the phaser shot. Though he knew that the tailor just couldn't be serious, he still was stupefied by the idea itself being able to come to his mind. So... _improper._ Garak was smiling at him with the same perfectly polite smile, barely trimmed with a slightest shade of an almost imperceptible trial. A challenge Julian had now to respond. It was a good stroke, and Garak was obviously a very good player. At least when it took to disputes.

"What if I refuse?" the doctor raised his eyebrows.

"You don't want to refuse," said he calmly as if he was explaining something plain to a stubborn child.

"Do I?" Julian tilted his head to the side, supporting a smile.

"I'm too polite with you to refuse." An expression of genuine surprise mixed with painted resentment appearing on the Garak's face made Julian laugh out loud with some strange feeling of an eased tension, clearly readable through his relaxed pose.

Once he was able to speak again, Julian shook his head as if accepting his unequivocal defeat. "Alright, Garak, I've learned your lesson," he smiled archly, inspecting the tailor's face with his eyes. After some pause while sharing one peering lingering look, he narrowed his eyes with a sudden intention of a tease. _"What if I agree?"_

Garak's amiability seemed impenetrable just as he was dispassionate. "In that case you might find undoubtedly reasonable my advice to change this place for a more suitable one," he tilted his head, staring at him with his eyes wide open in a feigned question.

And after another burst of laugh, while looking Garak in the eyes, Julian perceived in a flash of intuition that he actually _might be not joking._


End file.
